Homeless
by davidthesquirrel
Summary: MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE FANFICTION Gerard works at an accounting business, struggling to support his family in the dangerous New Jersey area, and in confronted by a problem, which at the same time, can prove to be a miracle.
1. Chapter 1

Gerard threw a handful of change on the register counter. The cashier, wearing a dark red 7/11 vest glared up at him and efficiently slid the coins, counting, into his palm. He slid two quarters back to Gerard two quarters, mumbling something about fifty too much. Gerard thanked him half-heartedly and sipped his now-purchased coffee, taking the two quarters. His drink was watered down, the antithesis of good coffee. He stumbled down the convenience store steps and gazed up at the gray polluted sky. He exhaled loudly. He would never get out of New Jersey. He walked on through the rows of dank, dirty brick buildings. The sun had just begun to rise above the buildings and barely anyone was on the streets. The sidewalk ahead of him was basically empty with the exception of a homeless man slumped against the wall of a building. Though they were the only ones on the sidewalk, the man didn't acknowledge Gerard in any way when Gerard passed. Moments after passing the man, he saw his work building sign appear in the distance. The words became clear: "Fleischman Accounting."

Gerard draped his jacket on the backrest of his chair. Maneuvering his way around the cramped cubicle, he sat down on his chair and spun gently back and forth, hands on the back of his head. He exhaled and organized the papers and files piled on his desk, the numbers infinitely lined on every page. Gerard hated numbers. No one had come in to the office yet, and Gerard did not want to work. He went to the kitchen and made himself another cup of coffee, wondering why he had spent money on the crappy coffee at 7/11 when he had better, free coffee at the office. Taking his mug back to his desk, he sat back down and twirled a pencil around in his hand. Absentminded, Gerard started to draw on one of the manila folders. Soon, it was covered in drawings of superheroes, villains, and vampires. He wanted to be an artist for so long. Gerard had aspired to become a comic book artist ever since he could draw. He had gone to SVA, but never got a chance to publish anything. He had met his wife, Lindsey, and decided it was time to leave his dreams behind and support her. He did get a job at an accounting business and had been working there for over five years, but he could not move past his dreams.

As Gerard was absorbed in perfecting the mouth of one of the vampires, he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He froze, then quickly tried to cover the folder under his arm and turned around. A large man stared down at him, his expression insinuating mild annoyance. Gerard addressed him,

"Mr. Fleischman…"

"Mr. Way, I am aware that you graduated SVA but you are an accountant, not an artist. If you want to keep this job, I only want to see that pencil writing work related things."

"I'm sorry, sir," Gerard hung his head in fake repent, but inside, frustration bubbled through his veins. Fleischman grunted in response and walked away. Gerard looked down at his desk and picked up the yellow Ticonderoga pencil. He rolled it up and down on the palm of his hand for a while, and then spun it around with his fingers. Eventually, he stabbed his index finger with the sharp point of the pencil until he gasped in pain. He told himself, "You'll never become an artist. Support your family."


	2. Chapter 2

Gerard unlocked the door to his apartment. He opened the door, but was stopped by the chain lock. He yelled into the small room,

"Honey, can you open the door?"

"'Kay!" came a response from another room. Gerard waited for the door to swing open. Instead, he heard the scraping of chair legs against the wooden floor nearing the door. Soon, the rattling of the chain came from behind the door. After the rattling stopped, Gerard heard more screeching of chair legs on the floor. Finally, just as he was about to put his hand on the doorknob, the old wooden door swing open. He looked down to find his daughter, Bandit, looking up at him in admiration.

"Daddy!" Gerard kneeled down to her height. They embraced each other and buried their face into each other's hair. Bandit smelled of soft soap and warm cookies. She smelt like a young child. Thank god. Gerard was always afraid that she would suddenly grow up when he was away at work for so long. He had not seen his beloved daughter in two days. He always left for work earlier than she woke up and came home later than when she fell asleep. He savored every weekend, always playing with her whenever he could. He loved her so much. She made his job almost bearable. Gerard kissed her forehead and asked,

"What adventures did you have today!"

"I opened the door for you! I had to go on a chair, but I did it! Mommy and me also made cookies! I wanted to go to the park, but Mommy said no…" Bandit said, her voice conveyed a little disappointment at the end. Gerard's heart fell to his feet, but he said enthusiastically,

"Did you save some for me?" Bandit replied by running to their small kitchen. Gerard didn't want to live in New Jersey. He wanted to raise a child somewhere safe, where they didn't have to worry whether it was safe or not to go to a playground. Bandit came running back with a demented chocolate chip in hand. Gerard thanked Bandit and took the cookie. It tasted surprisingly good. After he swallowed he asked,

"Do you want to see what I made for you?" Bandit nodded eagerly. Gerard pulled out a piece of paper with a dancing skeleton drawn on it from his messenger bag. Bandit's eyes grew wide with joy and carefully took the paper from Gerard's hands, careful not to crumple it. Bandit took after Gerard. She loved everything Gerard did. Instead of playing with Barbie's and dolls, she owned superhero and villain figurines and was always flipping through Gerard's comic books when her mother wasn't looking. Bandit always looked forward to the drawings Gerard drew fir her during his break or whenever he could get away with it. Gerard stood up and walked to the kitchen where Lindsey was making dinner. Gerard greeted her,

"Hi, Honey," and kissed her on the cheek. She hugged him back. As Gerard took off his jacket, he asked,

"Murder?" Referring to the reason why Bandit could not go outside.

"No…Rape," Lindsey replied.

"Rape?!" Gerard said, shocked.

"Yes… and it was Katie." Gerard gasped. Katie was their 17 year old neighbor who frequently babysat Bandit. Gerard put his head in his hands. He couldn't raise a child here. But at the same time, he couldn't afford to move to a safer location. He hated this. He wanted, so badly, for Bandit to grow up in a good environment. He didn't want her to grow up and be like him. He felt Bandit pull his right pant leg. She communicated a little concern for her stressed father through her big browns eyes, but she was mostly just eager to ask him,

"Can you hang this up?" holding up Gerard's dancing skeleton picture.

"Sure, Sweetie," Gerard replied. He took the picture and went into Bandit's room, his daughter following close behind. He took the piece of tape he had taken from the kitchen and stuck it on the picture to the wall among all of the other pictures. Bandit sat down on the floor and stared at the wall of pictures contently.

"Dinner's gonna be ready soon, m'kay?" Bandit nodded and stared back at the wall. Gerard started to close the door but left it open just a crack. He peered in and saw that Bandit was getting up to unearth something from under her bed. He laughed to himself when he saw that she had pulled out a Batman comic book. She carefully opened the book and studied the pictures. She cautiously flipped the pages, making sure they didn't rip, imitating the way Gerard read his comic books.

After watching Bandit for a while, he returned to the kitchen and started to take the dished and utensils out in preparation for dinner.

"Thanks, Hun," Lindsey said, taking the meatloaf out of the old oven. Gerard watched his wife gracefully moved around the limited area of the kitchen. Her now-dyed black hair rested down her elegant back, shiny and sleek. She wore no make-up today; Gerard thought she was most beautiful like this. His felt a surge of love and wonder: how could this beautiful woman love him? He didn't deserve her. He couldn't even support her. He felt a strong sensation of culpability, wishing he could be better. Lindsay saw her husband staring at him with distant, sorrowful eyes. She walked over and wrapped her arms around her husband.

"I love you, Gee," she said, and kissed his cheek.

"… I don't deserve you, Lindsey," Gerard whispered.

"Gerard. I love you so much. We deserve each other equally. We are meant for each other. I love you and Bandit more than anything in the world. I know your job isn't what you wanted, but believe me, we appreciate everything you do," Lindsey squeezed Gerard and kissed Gerard. She took dinner and brought it to the dining room.

"I love you too, "Lindz," Gerard said. Lindsey turned around and smiled with her flawless, white teeth. Gerard went to get their daughter, who quickly tried to hide the comic book when Gerard walked into her room. He chuckled softly and both of them walked to the dining room, hand in hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Gerard lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. Lindsey lay fast asleep next to him. He rolled over and looked at his alarm clock. The glowing green numbers read: 2:16 AM. He had gone to bed at 10:00 PM. This wasn't uncommon. He frequently couldn't fall asleep. He often wondered whether he had insomnia or not. So, when he couldn't sleep, he thought. He thought about the first time he had met Lindsey at Comic Con. The first time he had been able to afford to go to Comic Con, he got something much better than the experience: the love of his life. He thought about their wedding. About how she was so close to tears, choking on her complete euphoria as she said, "I do." He thought about gripping her hand as Lindsey lay in the hospital bed, seconds away from giving birth to their beautiful daughter. He thought about holding Bandit for the very first time. Looking into her infant face, so tranquil, so serene. He thought about how scared he was to raise a child. About what kind of world she would grow up in. How evil the world really was. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to keep her safe from all of that. He didn't want her to experience what he had been through. But he couldn't. No matter how much Gerard tried, he couldn't he couldn't protect her. He couldn't support her. He couldn't do anything for her. These thoughts of self-doubt and guilt flooded his mind as he tried to fall asleep.

Finally, after tossing and turning for a while, Gerard got out of bed as quietly as possible, trying not to wake up his wife. He crept to the far corner of the room and lifted the corner of a carpet off of the hardwood floor. The carpet covered a loose wooden board. Gerard lifted the board carefully and reveals bottle of different kinds of alcohol. He carefully chose a bottle of Scotch and pulled up from beneath the floor, mindful of the fact that the bottle clinked against the others as he took it. He slunk out of the bedroom and into their bathroom. He took a swig of the alcohol and sat down on the linoleum floor. If he couldn't control his own feelings, he would let the bottle control them. He drank more and more until he was half through with the 500ml bottle. His vision became blurred. He looked at the white clock above the medicine cabinet. When his vision finally cleared, the hands on the clock indicated that it was 4:23 AM. He needed to go back to bed. Just as he was about to get up, he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He tried to stand, but his vision and balance were compromised from the alcohol. Bandit walked into the bathroom, rubbing her tired eyes.

"Daddy?" Bandit said softly, confused as to what her father was doing. Gerard filled with panic. No. He didn't want to found like this. He closed the bottle of scotch and held onto the side of the bathtub to assist him with getting up. He slurred,

"B-Bandit. Let's go back to bed." He grasped the little girl's shoulder.

"Ow! Daddy! Ow!" Bandit squealed, trying to free from her drunken father's grip. Bandit got away from Gerard, scared and hurt. She looked genuinely confused. Gerard soon heard Lindsey's footsteps coming hurriedly down the hall. She stopped at the bathroom door, eyes spreading wide open when she saw Bandit on the verge of tears and Gerard leaning on the bathroom wall for support, a bottle of alcohol in his hand.

"What did you do to her?!" Lindsey cried, her voice pouring with ferocity, holding her daughter close to her. Gerard couldn't speak.

"No, Mommy, he didn't hurt me," Bandit piped up, her voice scratchy, trying to swallow her tears. Lindsey's face softened, but she grabbed the bottle away from Gerard. Gerard pulled himself across the bathroom floor and held his arms out to Bandit. Bandit flinched slightly, but hugged her father.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Bandit said. Gerard's chest felt heavy with remorse and tear poured out of his already blurred eyes. All this time he had wanted to protect her, when the only thing she needed to be protected from was himself.

"No. No, no, Bandit. You did nothing wrong. I'm sorry. Daddy's sorry," Gerard sobbed out apologies.

"Don't cry, daddy…"


	4. Chapter 4

After Lindsey put Bandit back in bed, she walked to the kitchen where the only light on in the apartment shone through the doorway. The coffee maker gurgled. Gerard was sitting in the corner, legs pulled up to his chest, forehead resting on his knees. Lindsey stood there for a moment, watching her husband in the incredibly vulnerable position he was in. After a while, she sat next to him, hugging her legs in the same way Gerard did.

"…Gee?" she whispered. Gerard did not move. Lindsey put her head between her knees and stared at the wooden floor.

Gerard was drowning in anguish. What had he done to his daughter? How could he have hurt her? All this time he had tried so hard to protect her. Teardrops landed on the floor. He wanted a drink. He needed a drink. _No_. He didn't want to hurt Bandit anymore. No matter what, he would never pick up a bottle of alcohol again. Never again. As he vowed to never drink again, he heard sobbing next to him. He picked his head up to find Lindsey sitting beside him, face hidden, but shuddering every time she breathed inward. Gerard was stunned at himself. He was so immersed in thought; he had never even realized that she had entered the room. Gerard forced himself to kneel in front of her, his vision still blurry, his head now throbbing. Lindsay didn't look up. Gerard could stand this. He couldn't stand hurting the only thing he absolutely loved: his family.

"Lindsey?" Gerard said quietly, unsure of what to do. He became frantic. What should he do? How could he ruin his family in just one morning? He buried his face in his hands, frustrated. All at once, Lindsey's sobs stopped, Gerard lifted his head from his hands and found Lindsey kneeling, too. Her face was red and her eyes were filled with a confusing mixture of sorrow, fury, and sympathy. Gerard's eyes were just as red from the alcohol and tears, but were more fragile, more pain-filled. Lindsey reached forward and took Gerard's wrists, palms facing upwards.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Gerard?" Lindsey started. Gerard looked away, finding that Lindsey's gaze was too powerful.

"Bandit loves you, you know that? She practically worships you. Every day, at around the hour you get home, she drops everything and waits by the door until you get home. She love you so much, she forgave you for hurting her. She doesn't understand drunkenness. She only believes in your real personality. She doesn't know how alcohol changes you. Do you remember when Bandit was born? You just gave up alcohol just like that; you were so overjoyed and absorbed with the fact that you had a daughter, you just stopped. It was incredible. Bandit saved you. What would have happened if she hadn't given you hope? She was like an angel to you. What happened? Doesn't she make you happy anymore, Gerard?" Gerard was incredulous. He had not known Bandit had loved him so much. He was so scared, ever since she had been born, that he would not be enough, that he would fail her, but had not realized that she loved him just for being her father.

"I will stop drinking, Lindsey," Gerard said, looking back at her, "I will provide for this family." Lindsey let go of Gerard's wrists and slowly wrapped her arms around Gerard's neck and rested her head on his collar bone. They remained like that until the sun's rays reached through the windows and touched the floors. The coffee maker became silent.

"I love you, Lindsey."


	5. Chapter 5

Gerard walked to work, feeling refreshed, but still feeling nauseas and sore. He was going to work hard today. No drawing. Today, his job wouldn't be threatened by his boss. As he walked the mostly empty street, he noticed that the same homeless man he had seen the day before. Feeling generous, he pulled out a crumpled bill from his pocket and placed it in front of the man as he walked past. Feeling good about himself, his heart lifted a little more and his steps felt a little lighter. Then, he heard,

"Sir?" A weak voice behind him was barely heard, as a cold November wind had blown past just as it left the owner's mouth. Gerard turned around to see the homeless man holding the bill out to Gerard. The man spoke again,

"You dropped your money." Gerard, confused, stuttered,

"N-no. That was… for you." The man extended his arm out a little more,

"Thank you, sir, but I don't need it." Gerard stood there in silence uncertain of what to do. Another wind flew through Gerard's hair. The wind made the dollar bill twitch in the man's hand. Finally, Gerard walked over, heels clicking loudly on the cement, and took the dollar back.

"Have a nice day," the man said. It was clear that the man had good intentions, but his expression and movement were different. They communicated no emotion. Though Gerard tried to shrug the thoughts about the man out of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder how peculiar the man was, how he seemed so familiar, but a stranger at the same time. The way he acted reminded him of someone. Who? Gerard thought hard, but was forced to forget about it when he was nearly hit by a car while absent mindedly crossing the street.

Gerard's hands itched to draw. It was only 1:00 in the after and he had completed more work than he had in a whole week before. Fleischman had approached him once that day, praising Gerard, surprised that the one miserable, lazy person had suddenly become hardworking and determined. Seeing that Gerard was working hard, Fleischman was in a good mood. A lot of his stress came from the fact that his employees did not work hard enough, but now that Gerard had completed more than the rest of the accountants did, he was beginning to feel generous. He approached. He cleared his throat as he always did to get people's attention. Expecting Gerard to turn around, he was surprised when Gerard suddenly lurched forward and made choking noises, followed by a fit of coughing. Finally, Gerard turned around, his hand holding a mug dripping with coffee. Fleischman tried to hold back a laugh.

"… Sorry… you just surprised me while I was drinking…" Gerard said sheepishly, face growing red. Fleischman chuckled,

"Sorry, I just wanted to tell you what a great job you've been doing today and that I - Are you alright?" Fleischman saw that Gerard had doubled over and was moaning softly. Gerard said weakly,

"Yeah, I just- don't feel very well." His face had now turned pale and the dark circles under his eyes appeared more prominent. Fleischman said, concerned,

"I was going to let you go home early for working so hard today anyway… so you can go." Gerard thanked him and slowly assembled his belongings. His head felt like it was being beaten by a hammer. He finally pulled his coat on and dragged himself to the door. It was sill cold from the wind, but the sun was shining bright. A little too bright, it seemed to Gerard. Hangovers would be the only thing he miss when he gave up alcohol. He stumbled down the street, feet dragging, until he felt his stomach churn. He tripped over himself as he hurried over to the nearest garbage can. He leaned over it and vomited. The strong scent of bile nauseated him even more. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and walked back down the sidewalk. He almost didn't notice when someone said,

"You alright, sir?" Gerard looked down beside him to see the very same homeless man he had tried to give the money to earlier that day. Gerard stared at him. The man looked back at him with his piercing brown eyes. Gerard then realized how thin the man was. The worn, short-sleeved t-shirt he wore hung loosely on his skinny frame. His knees stuck out of the holes in his old jeans. He had relatively straight brown hair and wore a pair of old glasses, the frames falling apart and barely stayed together with duct tape. His nose was perfect straight and pointed and his lips were pursed. Suddenly, Gerard realized who this man reminded him of: his mother. He hadn't thought about his mother in years. When Gerard was 5, his parents had died in a car accident. He was cared for by his grandparents. Memories came flooding back. He remembered how serious and cold his mother was. She rarely ever smiled and showed no affection. Just like this man.

"Yeah… I'm okay. Just a little hungover."

"Here. Hydrate," the man handed over an unopened bottle of Poland Spring water. Gerard become conscious that the man had no luggage. He only had a towel to sit on and a neatly folded winter jacket right next to him. Other than these things, he had nothing.

"No, that's okay. You need it. I'm almost home anyway." Gerard said, thanking him sincerely.

"Okay. Take care. Get home safely," the man said. Gerard walked away, thinking over what just happened.


	6. Chapter 6

After Gerard fumbled with the lock, he burst into the apartment. He ran into the bathroom and vomited again into the toilet. He moaned and fell back. He sat on the floor and reached over to the swing the door close before he started to gag again. His throat was raw and it hurt to talk. Someone knocked on the door. Gerard rasped,

"Come in." The doorknob rattled and Lindsey opened the door.

"You alright?" she asked, her voice soft and sympathetic. Gerard coughed,

"Yeah. A little hungover." Bandit poked her head through the doorway. She was clutching a Hulk figurine in her hand. Gerard forced a smile.

"Hi, Daddy." Bandit squeaked,

"Are you okay, Daddy?" Gerard heaved himself off the ground. He shook out his arms and legs wildly.

"Yup! Everything works!" Bandit giggled and put her hand out for Gerard to hold. Gerard extended his arm out and Bandit held on to his three middle fingers. Lindsay headed towards the living room. Gerard and Bandit followed. Gerard kept a hand on the wall for support. His head hurt worse than ever and it was interfering with his vision. Finally, they reached the couch. Gerard flopped onto it. Bandit dragged a cushion off of the couch and placed it on the floor next to Gerard and sat on it. Gerard gently put his hand on her head and brushed through her hair with his fingers. Lindsey turned the television onto Bandit's favorite program. Gerard absently stroked Bandit's hair and sank into the soft couch, the voices on the television fading away and his eyes fluttering shut.

_ Gerard found himself standing in the front of the 7/11 near his apartment in the middle of the night. The road in front of him was barren, except for the figure of a person sitting against a building in the distance. Uncertain of what to do, he walked past building. He passed "Fleischman Accounting", yet the figure was just as far as it was before. Frustrated he walked faster until he broke into a run. The figure only seemed to be even further from him. He pushed himself into a full sprint. He was so concentrated on reaching his goal, he didn't realize that he had suddenly run past it until someone called out to him. He turned back and saw Bandit. She was sitting next the homeless man; the figure, who was gazing up at the dark sky. Bandit beckoned with her hands to sit next to her. Reluctantly, Gerard sat in between his daughter and the man, a little nervous of the man. He looked down to Bandit, then to the man. Both of them were studying the sky. Gerard looked up at the sky, and gasped in astonishment. What he saw was the most spectacular sight he had ever seen. The usually dark and poisoned sky had been replaced by billions of twinkling stars, all of them seeming to be watching him; blinking. But in the midst of all of the stars, the most remarkable of all was the moon. It was three times its normal size, its crevices and craters standing out even more profusely than if it were viewed through a telescope. But peculiarly, it was enveloped in flames. Red, yellow, and orange flames were consuming the regularly powdery white moon. As they watched the sky, Gerard noticed that the man beside him had put his arm around Gerard's shoulders. Surprisingly, Gerard accepted this gesture and did not relent. He just looked back at the stars as if hypnotized by their beauty._

Gerard jolted awake. He was unsettled by the bizarre dream. He hadn't dreamt in so long, let alone remembered them. Why was this dream so vivid? Why was it so significant? Wanting to clear his mind, Gerard decided to go for a walk. He rose from the couch, catching Lindsay's attention.

"You were out for a while, Gee. You okay?" Gerard grunted,

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go for a walk."

"The sun's setting. It's going to be dark soon, be careful." Lindsey said, concerned. Gerard stepped out of the apartment and walked down the stair. When he turned to walk down the street, he realized that he had forgotten his coat. He didn't go back, but kept on walking down the sidewalk until he reached the 7/11. He stepped inside the convenience store and browsed through the chips and drinks. Finally, he picked up a ham and cheese sandwich and a small cup of coffee. He paid for the food and drink and then sauntered out of the store back into the cold. He looked around, the road more populated with people returning from work. He squinted through the bodies to see the homeless man in the exact same place, staring up at the sky. Gerard felt chills crawl up his spine and glanced up to the sky, a little part of him expecting to see a flaming moon. There was no moon, no stars, but only clouds tinged with red and purple from the almost vanished sunset. As he neared the man, he noticed that he did not acknowledge anyone like he did with Gerard. Finally, he reached the man. He stopped in front of him. The man averted his gaze from the sky to Gerard, and for the first time, Gerard saw him smile. He didn't smile as thought normally greeting a stranger or acquaintance, but as if greeting an old friend or beloved relative. He grinned as if Gerard had made all of his problems disappear. Gerard, though taken aback, found himself smiling an equally wide smile back. Awkwardly, Gerard held out the sandwich and coffee and said,

"Uhm… You should eat. You look really thin…" The man's smile quickly left his face. He looked at the concrete ground and replied,

"No, thank you, sir, I'm fine."

"Uh… You don't have to call me sir." Gerard said, rubbing his neck, confused as to why the man didn't take the sandwich when he was clearly starving. "Can I sit down?" The man nodded. As Gerard kneeled down, his joints cracking, a few bystanders gave him judging looks. Gerard placed the food between him and the man. The man glanced at the food, and then quickly looked away. They sat in silence for a while, staring at the ground, Gerard still getting looks from pedestrians. As Gerard was about to insist that the man should eat the sandwich, he heard the man's stomach growl. He looked up at the man, who was eyeing the sandwich. When the man saw that Gerard had seen him looking at the food, he hastily looked away again. Gerard asked,

"When was the last time you ate?" The man contemplated whether to answer or not, but then, finally, said,

"… A week." Gerard replied, trying to contain his concern for the man he had just recently met,

"Well then, eat the sandwich." Reluctantly, the man agreed. His hunger had taken over his usual sense of judgment and principle. He reached for the sandwich and slowly unwrapped the cellophane. Trying to ignore the urge to ravenously shove the sandwich in his mouth, he took small bites. Though the sandwich was in poor quality, the bread stale and the meat soggy, it tasted better than anything he had ever eaten before.

Gerard and the man both stared at the sky, the moon now appearing as the sun sunk behind the buildings. Although Gerard did not want to get up, he knew he had to go home to his family. He got up, his joints cracking even louder this time, and said goodbye to the man and slowly made his way home, cursing at himself for forgetting his jacket.


End file.
